AN SAGAIRTÍN

Is deas an sagairtín é grá mo chroí,
Is nach aoibhinn dhon phobailín a dtéann sé tríd
Tá séala ó Mhuire air agus branda é Chríost
'gus níl pabhsae i ngáirdín mar grá mo chroí

Tá an oíche seo dorcha agus tá sí fuar,
'Gus tá sí a' goilliúnt ar mo chroí go crua;
Ní ghabhaidh mé abhaile is ní ghabhadh ar cuairt
Né go gcaithfidh mé an oíche amárach le mo ghrá chois cuain.

Agus shíl mé a stéirín go dtug tú grá dom
Né gur baineadh an leagadh asam i mbéal na bearnan;
Níor dhúirt tú 'Dia linn' né 'Goirim slán thú'
Ach chrom tú do cheann agus rinne tú gáire

Is trua gan mise is mo mhúirnin bán
I mBaile an Chathasaigh taobh thiar den cheann;
bheadh gaoth én bhfarraige a[ga]inn agus taoile trá
's dheamhan a bheadh fhios ag an mbaile go mbeadh muid ann.

Agus mallacht shíoraí do lucht na mbréag
Nach ndúnfadh siadsan feasta a mbéal!
Níor bhris muid an t-aiteann 'gus níor lúb muid an féar
'Gus nac' fada a ruaigeadh muid é bhéal go béal.

Ach brén ar an bhfarraige mar sí tá lán,
Is í tá dul idir mé 's mo mhúinín bán;
Ach siúlfaidh mé gleannta agus cnocáin go deo
'gus dheamhan fear a phésfas mé go bhfaighidh mé bás.

THE LITTLE PRIEST (translation)

My boy, little priest, love of my heart,
Happy his people among whom he moves,
bearing Mary's seal and Christ's brand on his brow,
And there's no rose in the garden like unto my love.

The night is dark and cold
And weighs heavily on my heart;
I will not go home or go on a visit
Until I spend one night with my love.

I thought, O my treasure, that you loved me
Until that encounter at the open gap;
You never said God help us or bless us
But hung your head and hid behind mocking laughter.

Pity that I and my own darling
Cannot be in Ballycasey behind the Head;
We'd have the wind from the sea and the ebbing tide
And be safe there from prying eyes.

My eternal curse on those lying folk!
May their mouths be shut for evermore!
We broke not the furze nor bent the grass,
Yet far and wide, from mouth to mouth, we were reviled.

O my sad sorrow on the great sea
For she separates me from my beloved;
Now I'll tramp the valleys and climb the hills
And no man I'll marry to the day I die.

From a recording of Máire Áine Nic Dhonnchadha on Céirníní 'Cladagh' / Cladagh Records. Máire Áine learned this song from her mother.

Translation by Seán MacMathghamhna.

This song shares lines and verses with other songs such as Dónal Óg and Tiocfaidh an Samhradh, but the story is unique.
An intriguing song with a mixture of innocence and scandal!